She's Like The Wind
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: Both Ron and Minerva quietly recall their dance… The imposter that is quite set on killing Profesoor McGonagall and his teenage hormones combined with the elder woman's longing caused them to go far over the line. RW/MM -REWRITTEN!
1. Chapter 1

The lyrics used in this piece of fan-fiction, are from _She's Like The Wind. _I don't own anything; it belongs to RCA & Patrick Swayze.

* * *

Chapter 1

_Feel her breath on my face  
Her body close to me  
Can't look in her eyes  
She's out of my league  
Just a fool to believe  
I have anything she needs  
She's like the wind_

Ron didn't believe that he had ever been that close to Professor McGonagall. He actually had been quite surprised to be asked to dance with her, considering he had two left feet, even though his mother and father's tries to teach him how to dance when he had been younger. She could have taken anyone else, like Neville – who actually could dance fairly well, even though no one would have guessed that from him. Maybe McGonagall hadn't either. Why him, though? Why had she chosen him to dance with her, to let him feel her breath on his face, her body so close, while leading him about the floor, even though the purpose was for him to lead her?

He sighed, repressing the urge to look up into the direction of the lengthy staff table, and search for the woman in his thoughts. He instead chose to focus harder on his dinner, taking another piece of chicken and raising it up to his mouth. "Gosh, Ronald!" Hermione hissed, annoyed. He merely gave her a momentary sideways look, then shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat until he just no longer could. Fred, George, Harry and very likely even his little sister Ginny once she had heard about it, never would allow him to forget his dance with his Head of House that afternoon. He felt so embarrassed about it all, and yet at the very same he felt rather light for one reason or another.

Minerva Gaia McGonagall usually was seen as the least easy-going professor, after Snape. He never actually had thought about it, but after that afternoon, Ron felt as if his authoritarian Head of House must be seriously misconstrued. Now he actually thought about it, she indeed had never been very tolerable, but had never been anything but righteous either. He himself had gotten detention of hers as well, and even though he hadn't really gotten it then, he now saw that he likely would have done the same in her position. He and Harry already had been very lucky she had allowed them to remain at Hogwarts. The ones that had gotten detention or a snap of hers usually had earned it…

Minerva had felt so equal and warm in his arms that afternoon, which had been rather surprising considering how cold she often appeared to her pupils and anyone else acting foolish or hoping to be funny. Her waist had felt firm right beneath his touch and… Teen hormones running high or not, McGonagall was at least half a century older than him; was his Transfiguration Professor, Head of Gryffindor House… Deputy Headmistress!

He could hear a gasp from Hermione and intuitively raised his head to look at her, then in the direction she was gazing at. He could just see the woman in his thoughts leave the table, cloak billowing at her taluses. She limped. Dumbledore appeared surprised, too. Ron continued to gaze in the direction of the staff table for a while, then turned to his chicken again. With a rather hushed tone, Hermione whispered, "I have never seen Professor McGonagall leave the table early! I really hope she's alright," she added, and bit on her lip.

"She limped," Harry said, then chuckled upon turning to Ron. "Maybe you have stepped onto McGonagall's toes too much."

"That's not funny!" Ron said louder than he had intended to do, dropping the piece of chicken on his plate, then taking his wand and bag and aggressively leaving the Great Hall. He began in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, but upon reaching the top of the stairs, saw a familiar tall figure leaning against the wall nearby, which he easily recognized as the woman that had left the Great Hall earlier.

"Professor?" He whispered.

She immediately froze upon hearing his voice, not having anticipated to be caught in that position. She quietly left the support of the wall and forced her eyes open to look at him. "Mr. Weasley," she acknowledged.

Ron's earlier line of worry grew deeper upon hearing how uncharacteristically weak she sounded. "Professor, are you…?" He began, intuitively nearing to give her the support she appeared to need, for she momentarily swayed on her feet again and winced nearly inaudibly. He had, however heard and noticed. She slowly stretched her hand to keep him at a distance, but the motion was shaky.

"Mr. Weasley, I'm fine," she said.

"Professor, with all due respect, I don't believe so," he said, eyeing her up and down slowly.

"For Merlin's sodden sake, I'm fine!" She exclaimed, then gasped with the effort it had taken to maintain her usual final tone. She intuitively reached for the wall again and didn't argue as Ron reached to support her weight. She was now inhaling and exhaling rather heavily. Ron didn't fail to notice this. As the sound of multiple feet on stairs and talking grew louder, Minerva internally winced. She wouldn't allow her pupils to see her in this position. Wasn't it already bad enough Weasley had encountered her like this? She sighed. "My office, Mr. Weasley," she said, making sure that he didn't miss the urgency in her tone.

* * *

"Professor…?" Ron began, watching wide-eyed as his usually authoritarian Head of House quietly settled better on her couch under a wince. He quietly eyed her.

"I'll be fine, Weasley," Minerva McGonagall said. "I'll be fine again in the morning."

"I…" he began, then swallowed the rest of that upon seeing the look in the elder woman's green eyes. "I'm… I'm sorry for earlier today. I didn't actually mean to squash your toes like I did, and I'm sorry if it…"

"Weasley. I'll be fine. I just haven't danced in a little while. I'm not really used to it anymore," she admitted, impatience lacing every word, her natural Scottish lilt affecting her tone more than usual as well. He quietly thought about that, failing to notice the quirk of her eyebrow as he suddenly appeared far, far away, as if suddenly registering something.

"Well, Professor… Is there anything I could do for you anymore? Anything… at all?" Ron asked, almost nervously wringing his fingers. That must have been just a little too obvious…

Minerva McGonagall's eyebrow quirked possibly even higher. All Weasleys were very nice to her, but… "Mr. Weasley, if I really didn't know any better, I would say maybe you were trying to seduce me with your kindness?" At that, Ron's ears suddenly turned furiously red, and he rapidly took his belongings and left her office in a hurry, leaving her wide-eyed in the couch in her quarters.

It didn't take her much longer to register what had just happened, especially not when linking to their dance of earlier that day and the responses of both their bodies to being that close. She sighed, then leaned her head on her hand and muttered, "Oh, crap."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

At 6AM, the very first rays of sunshine began filtering in through the windows, beautifully enlightening the hallways for another day.

Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Alastor Moody and Disillusioned as well, was crouched down at the foot of the stairs and carefully eyed the door to the Deputy's personal quarters, just waiting; aware that Minerva McGonagall was a rather early riser, and she thus would be appearing rather sooner than later. _She's already weak…_ he thought, having watched her supported, nearly carried, there by that gangling Weasley boy last night, giving him the best opportunity this morning. He maniacally laughed within himself. That what he had hoped to do would be too easy almost…

Then the door in question suddenly flew open, revealing the Head of Gryffindor House and pulling Barty from his thoughts. He smiled and quietly pointed his wand at the woman, waiting until she came near enough. He watched quite amused as she uneasily limped to the staircase beside which he kneeled. When Minerva had finally limped over to the foot of the staircase, Barty of course seized his chance and hexed her, watching with a sickening grin upon his face, eying her as she fell down on the stone much like a rag doll, writhing in intense pain. He never looked back, but turned around to leave so no one would be able to connect him with what had happened to poor Minerva…

* * *

"Hey, what's going on here?" Ron yelled, as he, with Hermione and Harry, made his way down the stairs to the Great Hall to get something to eat before Transfiguration at nine. A whole crowd of pupils appeared to have gathered at the foot of the stairs and Ron being tall enough to see over their heads, could see that someone appeared to have fainted or something and was lying at the foot of the stairs. He vaguely saw a hint of long ebony hair.

He and his companions all three wormed their way through the crowd to see who the person in question was. Neither of them would have anticipated it, though. Hermione's hand immediately flew up to her mouth to stifle a gasp upon reaching the first row of the crowd, seeing that the person in question was their own Head of House, and that she hadn't merely fainted, but was in addition glowing with a sickeningly violet light. Even though her eyes had fluttered shut, she was furiously shaking with what appeared to be the aftereffects of a very powerful curse Hermione sincerely hoped hadn't taken place. "She has to be taken to Madame Pomfrey ASAP!" Hermione uttered, mind running rapidly in different directions. Even before she, however, had gotten any chance to lift Professor McGonagall's still convulsing body with magic, Ron had scooped her up in his arms not caring about the effects that sickening light possibly might have on him himself and bolted down the corridor in the direction of the infirmary.

Hermione and Harry momentarily eyed each other in surprise, before bolting after him down the corridor, hoping that McGonagall would be alright. "She's been hexed!" Hermione breathlessly informed Harry, as the both of them ran alongside each other to the fourth floor. "It must have been someone waiting for her there until now," she said. "No one sneaks up on McGonagall without ending up hexed himself!"

Harry suddenly screeched to a halt in the middle of the corridor, panting. Hermione as well came to a halt upon noticing Harry was no longer following and turned, wondering why he had discontinued running. "Dumbledore!" Harry spoke. Hermione's eyes went big, and she immediately nodded, following him in the direction of the Headmaster's Office. Dumbledore needed be informed of this. ASAP.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ronald Weasley quietly allowed the door to the infirmary to fall shut, then continued on his tip toes, to make sure no one would hear him. After all, Madame Pomfrey's office and personal quarters were directly connected to the often occupied hospital wing in case anyone's condition would change, or they required aid at night. That way, she could immediately interfere if necessary. Ron carefully looked around to make sure he was entirely alone, except for the one person that occupied the hospital wing – more particularly the very last bed on the left. As he drew nearer to it, he could perceive her eyes tightly closed. Professor McGonagall appeared to be in a lot of pain even when asleep. He couldn't truly believe Poppy Pomfrey had forgotten to force a bottle of pain relief potion down her throat. Maybe it had already worn off? Maybe it hadn't been strong enough? Actually, it wasn't very usual that any professors were there in the infirmary, unless to visit others. Usually, professors were treated in their own personal chambers if needed.

He slowly let the Invisibility Cloak slide down his shoulders, throwing it over the chair on the side of the bed. He could easily imagine Dumbledore having occupied it earlier that day. Ron slowly sat down on it, eying his Head of House lying there so defeatedly. He never would have imagined seeing the wonderful, proud Gryffindor like that. He swallowed and allowed his hand to cover hers. He could hear Hermione's evaluation of what had happened in his head again. 'If she hadn't already been weakened from whatever caused her to limp yesterday evening, she never would have gotten hexed. No one hexes Minerva McGonagall at day just like that.' It had run through Ron's head all day, up until now. It had bothered him immensely already, and the feeling just wouldn't go away. Maybe if he hadn't… "Mr. Weasley?" It suddenly sounded through the infirmary.

Ron nearly jumped up in surprise, turning to the woman in the bed on his right side. She weakly withdrew her hand, laying it atop of her other one, which was resting above the sheet at belly height. "What are you doing here?"

He nervously retracted his own hand and muttered, "Visiting you?"

"I'm fairly sure it is after curfew already," she said, nodding at Ron's wand as the only source of light in the otherwise dark hospital wing. "You're supposed to be in your Common Room at this hour. There's a madman running about in this building!"

"I know," he whispered. "Dumbledore's furious. He's having professors guard every little hallway in pairs. It wasn't easy to–" "How have you gotten here without being seen then?" She questioned, intuitively quirking her eyebrow.

"I uhm… I have borrowed Harry's Cloak…" Damn. Was he supposed to share with her that Harry had an Invisibility Cloak that allowed to wander the corridors after curfew without being seen by even the professors? "I uhm… I wanted to come see how you are doing tonight. No one's been telling us anything, so… I was…" The word 'worried' never escaped his lips.

"I have been attacked with a Dark Curse, Weasley!" McGonagall sounded. It didn't sound snappy, but more… matter-of-fact. Impatient. She sighed, then continued on in an uncharacteristically soft tone, "It isn't your fault, Weasley. It doesn't have anything to do with yesterday. I should have paid more attention. If I had, none of this would have happened, I'm sure." A silence fell between both of them, in which a weight fell from Ron's shoulders, even though he didn't fully believe her. Hearing her say this, was a great relief. The silence was broken by Minerva herself. "I have heard that you were the one who took me here." Ron mutely nodded. "Then I very likely owe you my life. Madame Pomfrey told me that it was a very close call, in fact." Ron nodded again, not saying a word at all. Minerva sighed, reaching for the younger man's hand and weakly squeezing it. "You should return to your Common Room."

Ron nodded, jumping up,and reaching to gather Harry's Cloak, when McGonagall suddenly pulled at his hand and uneasily reached up to kiss his cheek. Ron's ears immediately turned red much like his hair, and he hastily took Harry's Cloak, throwing it over himself. McGonagall, kissing him?

Minerva, however, could still see the light of Ron's wand. It momentarily drew nearer, and she could suddenly feel the touch of soft, moist lips near hers, as he left one last kiss on her cheek, quietly wishing her goodnight. Minerva's eyes fluttered. Then he was gone again. She could see the light that came forth from his wand draw away in the direction of the door, then dim. Soon she could hear the sound of the door to the infirmary falling shut after Ronald. Minerva intuitively reached up to touch the spot Ronald Weasley had kissed goodnight. She had had numerous pupils falling for her. One had even once written her a ballad. Never once had any one of them kissed her, though – even on the cheek; even though so fleetingly. She could barely recall it had happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After having been forced to remain in the infirmary by Madame Pomfrey for nearly a week after the hex, Professor McGonagall was allowed to heal further from the early morning attack in her own personal quarters. Professor McGonagall wasn't really someone who listened easily, especially if it came down to resting, and that for yet another month or more until she could teach again. No one saw her appearing in the Great Hall for meals, though. She thus must have listened to the matron.

The Yule Ball announced itself soon after the attack – which allowed for at least a little well mannered frivolity, and Professor McGonagall had left the sanctuary of her rooms for the occasion. She had watched everyone dancing with sadness in her eyes, unable to join in with them all. She very much would have liked to. That was until Ronald Weasley sat down beside her, seeing the longing in her eyes. "Would you like to dance?" Ron asked, upon which she had turned toward him and eyed him as if gone insane. "I won't let you fall," Ron ensured her, getting up and extending both of his hands for her to take. "I promise."

She carefully slid both of her hands in his and allowed him to pull her upright. "Just tell me if it gets too much," he then told her, before pulling her tightly against him, allowing her hands to rest upon his shoulders, while his supported her weight by the waist, leading the Head of Gryffindor House around the floor slowly. All eyes turned toward them. Poppy Pomfrey nearly got a stroke upon seeing it, but Albus had held her from ruining the professor's one moment in weeks and distracted her by asking her to dance with him instead. Surely enough, their dance only lasted one song and after their waltz, Ron safely returned the elder professor to her seat – only just in time. Her hip had begun pulling, straining against the moves, near the end of the song already, but she had stubbornly ignored the pain shooting up and down her leg until the song had come to an end. Padma Patil's look upon him was murderous…

After the Yule Ball, Professor McGonagall returned to the sanctuary of her rooms to continue healing from the attack. Another month passed by in which Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster, himself replaced his recovering Deputy for the time being. No one had really gotten closer to catching the one that had hexed her either. Teachers thus kept patrolling all corridors in pairs at night to catch oddities if needed. Ron never went to visit her again.

About a month and half after the attack on the Transfiguration Mistress, Albus Dumbledore appeared exceptionally late for his lesson on Tuesday morning with the then fourth years. Some pupils were already beginning to gather their things, saying more essential things could be done but continue waiting, when suddenly Professor McGonagall herself appeared, walking from the back of the room to her desk – slowly, but no less fearless than they were used to of her, even after the attack. It came rather as a surprise to find her teaching again, since nothing had indicated any change in the situation. Professor Dumbledore hadn't said anything, nor had Professor McGonagall appeared for any meals in the Great Hall as of late that could indicate her feeling good enough to possibly teach again.

"Please. Stop gazing at me like I'm going to faint any second," Minerva remarked in her usual snappy tone. "I'm not an attraction on the funfair." She was back for sure.

The lesson passed by smoothly, as if Professor McGonagall never had gone, but some of the pupils weren't really convinced due to the way in which she walked and talked. One could see she tried very hard to hide any weaknesses, but she didn't succeed every time… Sometimes her voice would sound hoarse and soft. Sometimes she would disguise a wince with a cough.

When the lesson was over, Ron encouraged both of his companions to go ahead to the Great Hall for dinner already, while remaining behind as the rest of the pupils filtered into the hallways and made for the direction of the Great Hall, like everyone. Hermione, having noticed that what Harry hadn't, thoughtfully shut the door behind her. Harry never noticed anything, but Hermione had seen the way how Ron usually became very nervous and concerned when anyone was talking about McGonagall. She had noticed the way he seemingly discreetly wanted to hear every little thing when there was mention of her. She had noticed just how exceptionally often he had wiped his hands at his robes to hide the clamminess while the lesson had lasted. He must care about their Head of House very much, that was very obvious.

She thought it rather funny. Of course relationships between teachers and pupils weren't allowed. Hermione would have pointed Ron at that immediately upon noticing his late behavior toward their Head of House, had she not been sure that McGonagall would never allow it and would tell him herself if he even tried anything. One part of her felt like warning him, not wanting him to get hurt. Another was sure enough that since he had actually saved her life, Professor McGonagall would in that moment be kind in letting him down. Of course had either she or Harry known about Ron's little escapade the night after she had gotten hexed…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Mr. Weasley," Minerva acknowledged, barely looking up from her papers as he neared her desk.

"Aren't you… coming to the Great Hall for dinner?" He asked.

She finally looked up at him, eying him carefully through her silver rimmed square eyeglasses. He intuitively swallowed at the sight of her mesmerizing teal green eyes. One could say that Dumbledore's eyes were piercing in nature, but now he came to consider it, Ron must admit McGonagall's were in their very own way as well. "I could be asking you the same, Mr. Weasley," she replied, then quietly directed her gaze down again.

"So how are you doing?" He blubbered.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm teaching again, aren't I?"

"That doesn't mean anything, I–" At that moment the silence got interrupted by the sound of a particular wooden leg in the corridor by the door of the room and then the door opening wide to reveal Mad-Eye Moody. Both of his eyes, both natural and magical, immediately fell upon the red haired fourth year, then trailed further over to the professor, who had averted her attention from the pages on her desk again.

"Weasley!" May-Eye snapped. "I would like to speak with Professor McGonagall. Alone."

Ron nervously fumbled with the fastening of his bag, muttering, "Uh… Yeah. Of course," while hurrying in the direction of the door, ears rapidly turning red. He politely shut the door behind him. He remained to listen at the door for a minute, then continued in the direction of the Great Hall. He never realized how ravished he actually was. Neither one of them three realized Ron's scarf still hanging over the chair he had occupied earlier. They certainly had needed the heat of a scarf and a pair of gloves when walking from the greenhouses over to Transfiguration. It had heavily snowed during the night.

Barty Crouch Jr. in the disguise of Mad-Eye Moody continued to follow the red haired pupil through the back of his head with his magical blue eye, until he had finally disappeared from sight. He then turned to the professor again. "So," he began. "You're teaching again."

"I am," Professor McGonagall replied, never noticing anything maleficent in his tone or anything else, even though he had been the one hexing her that morning weeks earlier. "I'm feeling much better than I used to," she elucidated. "Anything else?" She asked, turning to her papers again. "I would like to finish this one thing and then head to the Great Hall as well."

He nodded. "Ah well," he said, pulling his wand from his sleeve and pointing it at her. He would kill her this time. He should have done this last time already. She never would be able to tell anyone who had done it. No one would ever be able to guess either. Without her, only Dumbledore would be limiting him. However, if he could just keep on fooling Dumbledore and the others around like he already had for months, his plan would succeed, and his Master would get Harry Potter and regain the power which he had unfortunately lost that night thirteen years earlier. "Too bad. You won't."

McGonagall, however, was faster, even though her weakness, casting a Protego Charm. Barty Crouch Jr.'s teeth clenched together in fury, as he furiously continued casting hexes of all kinds. He could already see beads of perspiration forming on her forehead and smiled naughtily again. No matter her Protego Charm, she would have to give very soon either way. He was much stronger.

However, right then Ronald Weasley realized that he must have forgotten his scarlet and gold Gryffindor scarf with Transfiguration and turned around again to go get it. He would have to leave the building again for Care of Magical Creatures later on, and his scarf was useful against the cold that would surely only pick up in strength. He decided to run. He was after all ravenous and certainly didn't want to miss dinner…

Upon nearing the corridor with the room where the subject Transfiguration was taught and where Professor McGonagall's office and personal quarters were located again, Ron could already feel something odd, highly magical, come forth from the room from a distance. He would have knocked, hoping not to disturb the conversation between both professors in case Mad-Eye hadn't left yet, had it not been for that feeling…

Barty hadn't counted on Ron bursting into the room again and spun around in the direction of the door, momentarily turning from the duel with McGonagall to hex anyone who was interrupting him. However, he hadn't counted on Ron being faster either and was thrown against the wall as Ron suddenly noticed the wand of 'Mad-Eye' directed at him like that. It had been more of a reflex than anything else. He gasped upon seeing Professor McGonagall on her knees beside her desk, holding onto the table top so badly her knuckles had turned white. She weakly directed her wand at the unconscious body of Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Mad-Eye Moody, summoning his fallen wand and capturing it with her left hand, while swaying the right once to conjure iron chains around the perpetrator's body, then again to conjure a net even over that. Then she levitated him into the air with the very last of her energy and slumped against the desk.

Ron continued to gaze at 'Mad-Eye' in horror, then let his eyes trail further over to his Head of House. He rapidly ran over to her, sinking on his knees beside her. He quietly followed her line of vision and frowned as well upon seeing something change in the appearance of the man in the air. The hair of the man rapidly turned darker, and his body became much slimmer. The fake blue eye of Mad-Eye Moody popped from the socket, for it was now no longer needed. "Barty Crouch Jr.," McGonagall whispered in something near shock at recognizing the figure. Barty had thought that eliminating Minerva wouldn't have lasted longer than a second… She winced and reached for her ribcage.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked, ripping his gaze away from the pained Gryffindor Head of House.

"I will be," she said, then suddenly reached for Ron's hand, both to steady herself and to catch his full attention. "That," she said, nodding at the unconscious body high into the air. "is not Alastor Moody, but a Death Eater who should have been in Azkaban. "Please… get Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape."

"Snape?" Ron uttered.

McGonagall nodded, impatient. "Yes, Weasley! Snape!"

"But!" Ron uttered. "You're…" He didn't quite know what he actually was going to say, but just eyed her wide-eyed still.

"Oh, for Merlin's sodden sake!" She cursed. "GO, Weasley!"

Ron immediately jumped up and ran toward the door, leaving the door wide open as he hurried to the Great Hall to get Professor Dumbledore. McGonagall momentarily waited until the sound of Ronald Weasley's feet had died away, before slumping against her desk, letting the exhaustion overtake her.

By the time Professor McGonagall came to again in the sanctity of her personal chambers, Barty Crouch Jr. had already been given the Dementor's Kiss by a Dementor Cornelius Fudge had sent, after Dumbledore had informed him of the situation… but not after the Headmaster had gotten every bit of information from the Death Eater with the aid of Snape's Veritaserum. The real Mad-Eye Moody was saved right after. Of course, the elimination of one of Voldemort's best Death Eaters and their knowledge of his ideas gave them better chances, but it didn't mean the war was over yet.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The rest of the week passed by without Professor McGonagall leaving her personal quarters. Monday she, however, was teaching again. She was already seated at her desk as the mass of fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins filtered into the room, furiously scribbling. She only looked up to eye her pupils as the very last one shut the door and seated himself as well. She never got up while the lesson lasted, which was rather unusual and that didn't go unnoticed by her pupils.

As the bell chimed to indicate the end of the lesson, McGonagall momentarily raised her voice to carry over the sound of everyone gathering their things, "Mr. Weasley, could I speak to you?"

Malfoy naughtily snickered, then hurried away to head over to History of Magic with the Ravenclaws. The Gryffindors were supposed to have Care for Magical Creatures with the Hufflepuffs, but the lesson had been cancelled due to the cold that made teaching in the open nearly impossible. "I'll see you both in the Common Room afterward," Ron muttered and headed over to Professor McGonagall's desk as the last pupils joined into the mass in the hallways, moving in the direction of their next lesson.

"Good," Professor McGonagall finally voiced as the sound of multiple feet drowned away. She looked straight into the red haired fourth year's eyes. "Now," she said, pushing both palms against the wooden table top and heaving herself upright. "Follow me," she continued and began in the direction of her office, Ron confusedly following in her wake as she had so requested. His confusion only increased as she led him into her office and then further through, into what appeared to be her personal living room. He never had known of any pupil at all who had been in Professor McGonagall's personal quarters. She was very reserved and allowed no one to invade her personal business, and that would have included her personal rooms.

"Sit down," she offered, easily waving her wand to close the door to her rooms, watching as he nervously sat on the edge of the couch she had politely indicated. Minerva quietly sat herself down on the couch opposite the one Ron occupied. "Tea?" She asked. Ron merely nodded, upon which Minerva called, "Mitzi?" At once, a barely two feet tall creature with thin arms and legs and oversized ears and eyes appeared between them. Ron immediately recognized it as one of Hogwarts' many House Elves. The House Elf in question, named Mitzi, had exceptionally large pointed, bat-like ears – even for a House Elf. She only wore a large tea-towel, with the emblem of Hogwarts on it. She immediately turned to the professor, bowing deep. "Mitzi, could you provide us with some tea and biscuits, please?" She asked very politely.

"Of courses," Mitzi replied in her squeaky high tone. "I'lls sends immediately, Miss McGonagalls." Then, with a snap of her fingers, Mitzi was gone, and only a few seconds later, a tray with tea and biscuits just like Professor McGonagall had asked appeared on the table between both couches. McGonagall quietly reached for the steaming tea pot and pored both cups, then set it down again. She kindly pushed the tray with biscuits toward Ron, who politely denied by shaking his head.

McGonagall sighed, shifting in her seat. "Mr. Weasley. I imagine that you have no idea why I have called you here. I cannot…" She sighed once again. "There's no way I could be thanking you enough for saving my life and not just once, but twice, and that from the same villain. If you hadn't been there first time, the hex would have claimed my life. Had you not been there to knock the perpetrator to the wall last week, I would have lost the duel very soon. He would have killed me for sure."

She didn't divulge any more. Ron's eyes turned fiercely red, as he intuitively directed his gaze down, fiddling with the fastening of his old shoulder bag. The sound of something against the window made both of them look up. A large gray Hogwarts owl was seated on the other side of the window. "I'll get it," Ron said, jumping up, not wanting to tire his Head of House even more than she already was. She already had been so tired just from the distance to her quarters…

The owl immediately took off as Ron unfastened the letter from its paw. He tightly shut the window after the bird had gone, momentarily shivering. Ron returned, handing her the letter, their fingers touching each other. The touch lasted just a bit longer than necessary, and teal green and sea blue connected in the moment. Ron swallowed. Minerva slowly laid the letter atop of the table, right beside the tray and reached up to kiss his cheek. Before either of them were actually aware of it, he was, however, kissing his professor's lips. The raging teenage hormones from his side and the longing to feel that what she hadn't in so unbelievably long from hers easily kept them connected. The kiss rapidly grew needy and passionate, and both of them had to break away to heave for some air soon.

McGonagall panted, pushing their foreheads together, eying him. She quietly pointed her wand in the direction of the door, then let it fall down on the carpet and heaved herself upright with a groan. "You OK?" Ron asked, worriedly. She nodded, kissing him, beginning to walk him in the direction of her bedroom. Minerva just wanted to feel something else but pain and loneliness…

Upon noticing where she was headed to, he carefully picked her up and carried her the remainder of the distance to Professor McGonagall's bedroom. He thoughtfully turned to push the door further open with his back and slammed it shut again with his foot. Professor McGonagall uncharacteristically giggled, nibbling on the redhead's earlobe as he cautiously laid her on the bed. She, however, immediately pulled him on top, legs still wrapped around his waist, and he only just succeeded not to crush her, by extending a hand and leaning on it. Their eyes momentarily connected again, lust filling both of their gazes. "We're overdressed," she whispered, and Ron never would have anticipated to hear her tone that husky. She easily waved her hand, and as if by magic, their attires neatly left their bodies and folded themselves at the end of the bed. Minerva could feel and see the younger man's body still.

"You just gotta love magic," he whispered, eyes never leaving hers.

Minerva smirked, her hand cupping his cheek and lead his lips down to hers again. Their kiss was even more passionate than the first if possible. Minerva's arms wound around his neck, as Ron kept himself from crushing her by leaning on one hand, stroking her side up and down with the other, making her moan in his mouth. Ron soon left the heat, and moistness of her lips as he continued to discover the rest of her body. Minerva's eyes remained closed, and her fingers tangled in his red hair, as his lips travelled to the patch of sensitive skin right beneath her ear and further down her neck. She moaned loud as the touch ignited long lost feelings.

Minerva's skin tingled with the anticipation of what was surely yet to come, as Ron's open mouth roved over her collarbone, tongue dipping in the hollow between both collarbones, then further down to the valley of her cleavage. Ron momentarily discontinued to whisper, "Blimey. You're beautiful…"


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Mr. Weasley," Minerva sighed, quietly pushing him a few inches away. "We cannot do this anymore. We… I…" she began, the rest of it entirely lost as he began suckling her neck. She tried once again to keep him at a distance. He growled, eying his Head of House bitterly. "You're a pupil of mine! I'm the Head of Gryffindor House; your House!" She shouted.

"So what?" Ron yelled, anger flaring. She hadn't had any issues with it earlier.

"I'm fifty-five years your senior!" Minerva exclaimed, and took a hold of his shoulders. She momentarily shook him. "Why the hell can't you see?" She finished.

Ron's eyes widened upon hearing his proud Transfiguration Professor curse. Actually, he had already known it couldn't be happening at the beginning of what he sometimes liked to call a relationship, but wasn't. One could rarely call a one time shag that she had soon named an accident a relationship. He sighed, nodding. He then hung his head and turned to leave, but Minerva's fingers closed around his arm. He intuitively looked up, and their eyes immediately connected, as did their hot, wet mouths. Both of them knew that this would be the very last time; this would be their romantic goodbye…

Both of them needed this one last encounter to be able to say goodbye in that way. Ron's fingertips began wandering rapidly over her body, as their kiss grew even fiercer. He easily turned her, and Minerva already pointed her wand at the door to seal it, then cast a powerful silencing charm. Minerva's wand fell down onto the wood with a clatter, as Ron began kissing her neck, pushing her against the desk.

Ron rapidly hitched up her robes, thrusting into her deep. She gasped, and Ron momentarily waited for her to get used to this position, then began making long, deep strokes into her sheath. Minerva intuitively held onto the edges of her desk, the feeling between her lightly parted legs deeply satisfying. "H–Harder…" she panted, wanting to feel as much as was possible this last time. Ron immediately obeyed, holding onto her hips, as he drove himself into Minerva harder.

He soon felt the now familiar feeling of Minerva's walls tightening around him, and he could no longer delay his orgasm anymore either. He pushed and pumped, until the very last of his cum was spilled. Both of them panted heavily, as he carefully helped her upright again, leaving the heat of her body as he did. Both of them internally groaned at that feeling of loss, but too knew that this couldn't continue anymore.

"I love you," Ron whispered, then left Minerva's office. He wouldn't allow her to see him cry. He wouldn't allow anyone. Nothing between them both ever could be the same again, but he would never regret this, and he certainly hoped she wouldn't, either. Deep down, he knew. She wouldn't.


End file.
